


Stock

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, PWP, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:20:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22025479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: A night in between.
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Gimli (Son of Glóin)/Legolas Greenleaf
Comments: 9
Kudos: 127





	Stock

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Lord of the Rings or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

They’ve spared no time to set up camp—haven’t bothered with shelter, a fire, barely even bedrolls, but they take time for _this_ —Gimli to flatten into his back and rut between his cheeks, stretching him wide and slicking him up with what little water they can spare, until he’s gaping open and needs to be _filled_. It’s a foolish thing to do, when he knows well enough how incredibly _large_ Gimli is—how his thick cock pries Legolas open far beyond comfort. Gimli reaches so deep inside him and pounds into him so roughly that there’s no chance he won’t have bruises in the morning. He’ll be sore during their run. But he’ll run anyway. They have to. And they have to take time to celebrate what little _good_ there still is in the world—the warmth and emotion they find in one another—because everything else has become so dark. Legolas forgets all thoughts of tomorrow and just lets himself drown in the glorious sensation of Gimli’s enormous cock rubbing against his inner walls. Gimli’s stout fingers dig into his hips. Gimli’s beard scratches his bare shoulders, his tunic pulled aside so Gimli can bite more bruises into his neck. Lying on his side on the hard ground, Legolas takes it all. 

He reaches out one trembling hand to touch the broad back of the Man lying before him, because somehow, it’s still not enough. Gimli is _so good_ to him, but Legolas is greedy. They’ve spoiled him. He can’t reach far with Gimli holding him back, but they’re lying tightly together enough, squeezed behind an outcrop of protective rocks, that Legolas can easily nuzzle into the back of Aragorn’s head. His hair is matted and a little oily, sorely in need of a wash, like all of them, though Gimli still speaks of Legolas’ hair like it’s the finest silk. Gimli’s coarse curls tickle the small of his back. Legolas’ long fingers trace Aragorn’s side, until Aragorn sighs, “Do not tempt me, Legolas. We have a long walk again tomorrow, and it is foolish to waste what little time we have to rest on any other thing.”

Legolas means to answer, but Gimli stabs into him at that moment, and all he can do is arch and moan at the sudden surge of _pleasure_. Gimli growls, “I don’t know how you can resist him.”

“Not easily,” Aragorn quietly admits. It’s almost drowned out in the lewd slapping sounds and Gimli’s panting. Legolas is breathing heavy too, just not as loudly. Legolas licks his dry lips and tries again.

“We travel with a dwarf, Aragorn. He has needs, and it would be cruel not to sate them... and Men...” He doesn’t finish, doesn’t say that Men have the same needs, just trails off as his arms wrap tightly around Aragorn’s body. He’s rutting into Aragorn’s taut rear, not because of his own crude ministrations, but simply the force of Gimli’s thrusts—Gimli keeps pounding him forward. It’s hard to think while Gimli’s fucking him so fiercely, but Legolas manages for the sake of completing the circle. He never likes to leave his Ranger out.

Aragorn counters, “Are you sure it is not our _elf_ that needs it?”

Gimli chuckles in evident agreement. They don’t seem to understand the depth of his patience—how long it was since his last round before he met Aragorn. But it’s true that they’ve spoiled him since, and perhaps he’s grown accustomed to it. With a broken sigh, Legolas asks, “If I admit as much, will you embrace me then?”

Aragorn heavily exhales. Legolas can see it, feel it in the rise and fall of Aragorn’s shoulders. He’s elated when Aragorn rolls over to face him. 

Aragorn takes hold of Legolas’ slender wrist and deftly removes it from his hip, instead lowering it down between his legs. Aragorn presses Legolas’ palm against the warm bulge that waits there, and Legolas spills another ragged moan. Aragorn sighs, “This is what you do to me, my friend, even when I know that it should not.”

Legolas can do little more than smile. He rasps, “No matter the reason for it, you had best release it now, so there will be no distraction tomorrow.”

“You’re always a distraction,” Gimli grunts, “And more so now—enough with talk! Aragorn, will you share our elf or not?”

Legolas smiles as seductively as possible, but he can see on his second lover’s face that he’s already won. Aragorn leans forward to kiss him: a plain and full surrender.


End file.
